


Im/Perfect

by purrplepjs



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 20:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15670812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purrplepjs/pseuds/purrplepjs
Summary: Stolen moments at midnight. It’s all they have.





	Im/Perfect

There's something about the way her name sounds on his lips. It rolls from his tongue like a sensuous threat.

A promise.

A lie.

She doesn't care anymore.

_Akane..._

Three syllables stoke the fire deep in her belly. Her hands reach for him unconsciously. She doesn't remember giving them that instruction. Her fingertips graze his shirt as she grips the fabric roughly, pulling him toward her with surprising force, given their difference in stature. Perhaps he's playing along. Perhaps he's moving toward her as well. Giving her the illusion of control when she's never really had any at all.

Again, she doesn't care.

Her lips find his in an easy dance as her fingers twist further into his shirt. She inhales deeply. His musky, familiar scent fills her nostrils, as the taste of cheap beer and cigarettes that lingers on his lips overwhelms her senses.

It's overload.

He's here, again, at last.

These stolen moments under the cloak of midnight are all they have, and all they will have for some time to come. It's never enough, but it has to be.

Her fingers loosen their grip on his shirt, swiftly pulling it over his head. The dog tags he still wears despite leaving the SEAUn resistance a while back clink softly against his chest. His eyes catch hers for a moment, glinting in the low light before his fingers slide slowly beneath the fabric of her shirt, burning trails across her abdomen and her rib cage. He watches intently, smiling to himself as her eyes flutter closed and she bites down on her lip.

He'd taken lives. He'd brandished a dominator. But this... this was an entirely different rush of power.

Tired of teasing, he pulls her shirt over her head. Her eyes open again, locking with his as she brings up a hand to gently stroke his cheek. Big, brown doe-eyes bore into his soul and he finds himself falling, drowning, gasping for air. She's the saviour and the storm. It's intoxicating. He leans into her touch. She grasps the back of his head, threading her fingers through the shaggy spikes as she brings him down to her level. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

She holds him there for a moment, stroking his hair. This is the _I love you_ never spoken in words. The silent support, unburdening him of his turmoil without judgement or explanation. She's there when he needs her. Even though he always does. But these fleeting moments have to suffice, for now. He soaks them in. Stores every detail away for later. Memories of her are the only thing that gets him through.

She shuffles backward toward the bed, still clutching onto him. The back of her knees hit the edge and she allows herself to fall backwards, bringing his weight down on top of her.

He sits up, almost immediately, shuffling back to unzip the side zipper on her skirt, pulling the garment over her legs and tossing it to the floor. His calloused fingers hook beneath the lace of her panties, tracing the contours of her hip bones as he slowly drags them down. Her breath hitches as his fingers ghost over her skin.

He stands up to rid himself of his pants and briefs. She shuffles back, slipping out of her bra. She knows he hates unhooking those damn things. She watches him undress, an almost predatory gleam in her eye.

With a swift movement, he moves over her once more, careful not to crush her tiny frame with his larger one. She urges him down, she loves to feel his weight on hers. His lips find hers again, finally. Passionate. Hungry. She gasps for air and bites down gently on his lower lip. He bites back. She groans. His kisses are fire, wild and out of control.

She clutches at his hair as his lips move to her neck.

She doesn't need to know who her perfect match is. Sybil be damned - Perfect is the man whose breath is hot on her neck. Perfect is the man whose lips sear her skin with their touch. Perfect is the man whose heart is beating a staccato rhythm in time with hers.

Her thoughts are scattered as his hand trails over her breast and across her stomach. She gasps as he spreads her thighs with one large hand and begins stroking her intimately. His lips return to hers, muffling her cries as she clutches at him. Biting softly at her ear, he urges her gently towards completion, revelling in her gasps and moans as she gets closer.

It isn't long before she arches beneath him, gasping his name as she pulls him down to kiss her once more. Their tongues clash wildly. She twists her fingers into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

She gasps his name again, along with a plea.

_Now. Please, now!_

He shifts his weight on top of her. Slowly, he inches inside of her. He watches her face intently as she grimaces against the intrusion, her furrowed brow relaxing as she adjusts to his size. He stills, waiting for a signal from her to start moving again. Her eyes flick open, locking with his. She rolls her hips, giving him permission. He groans, the guttural sound forming and fading in the back of his throat. This woman... she's incredible.

Their hips find a matching rhythm, movements falling into place like the perfect machine. He threads his fingers through hers, their hands locking together, knuckles white as he increases his speed. His head swims, the sensations intense.

She lifts her hips, locking her legs around his waist. The slight shift in angle allows him to reach the most sensitive spot at her core. She throws her head back, crying out in pleasure with each thrust. Heat pools low in her abdomen and blossoms outwards quickly in a rush of fire. Her body clenches around him with her climax and she cries out again, louder. Primal. His release follows quickly. She's not sure whether he is spurred on by her own orgasm or if they're just that in sync as lovers.

Once again, she doesn't care.

He rests his forehead against hers, pulling her body with him as he rolls onto his side, withdrawing from her. Her eyes are closed. Her breath escapes in soft, even pants as a small smile plays on her lips. She basks for a brief moment in the afterglow before opening her eyes to look at him. His expression matches hers. Sated. Content. Eyes half lidded.

She strokes his cheek gently, her trimmed nails grazing over short stubble. His eyes flutter closed again as he relishes her touch.

_Are you staying?_

Her small voice breaks the silence.

_Next time._

His reply is short, delivered with a half smile. This is their game. She asks the same question, he always offers the same reply.

One day, he'll surprise her and say yes.


End file.
